


I dreamt of heaven

by Tripawed



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Wings, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Poverty, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tripawed/pseuds/Tripawed
Summary: Jaskier picks himself up and dusts himself down. Don't cry, he tells himself fiercely. Do not cry. If the other boys see him crying they will only pick on him more and his father will be so disappointed."Why didn't you just give them your book?"He startles and turns around to see the most beautiful man he has ever seen.Except it's not a man... It's got wings."What are you?" He blurts.The creature squints at him, "fuck." It grunts, "why do I always get lumbered with the idiots?"Geralt still walks the path but in his role as a soldier of heaven. Jaskier is his human assignment.It goes exactly as well as you'd expect
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Triss Merigold, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Kudos: 44





	I dreamt of heaven

Jaskier picks himself up and dusts himself down.  _ Don't cry,  _ he tells himself fiercely.  _ Do not  _ cry. If the other boys see him crying they will only pick on him more and his father will be so disappointed.

"Why didn't you just give them your book?" 

He startles and turns around to see the most beautiful man he has ever seen.

Except it's not a man... It's got wings.

"What are you?" He blurts.

The creature squints at him, "fuck." It grunts, "why do I always get lumbered with the idiots?"

"Hey! That's rude?"

"You just asked me  _ what I am!?"  _ The creature snips back.

"Well, you do have wings." Jaskier points out as reasonably as he can.

"Angel. Never heard of them?"

"Oh? I thought angels would be more...angelic." 

The angel blinks, then gestures at the wings, looking even more grumpy. "Ta-fucking-da, what more do you want?"

"I thought you'd swear less too." 

The angel squints harder. Maybe he has bad eyesight, Jaskier thinks.

"Well, why didn't you just give them the book? Save yourself a beating."

"It's my book!" He flushes, it's full of half scribbled songs, little lines of poetry and it's private. In the all encompassing way that Jaskier finds his things often are.

The angle grunts. "Well, let's get you cleaned up." It flicks a careless finger and just like that Jaskier's bruised face stops hurting and his clothes mend. "Stay out of trouble." 

Then it vanishes.

Gasping at looking at the spot where it had been, he scuttles home to tell his parents. His mother burns sage throughout the house to ward off evil spirits while his father calls the priests in to bless everyone and everything in case Jaskier brought home something sinister.

"He was nice!" Jaskier protests for about the thousandth time. 

"It was either an evil spirit trying to lure you away or it was a monster," his father corrects, "you are lucky to be alive. Next time you should run away, not stop and talk to it."

He does not run away.

"Hi." He rasps, fever making him weak.

"Shut up."

"Can't if I stop I am pretty sure I'll die."

"No you won't." The angel snits, "what do you think I'm doing? Boiling an egg? No, I am topping up your life force."

"Oh?" Jaskier considers quietly for half a second before asking, "why?"

"You're my job."

"Oh." He feels flat even though he's sure he shouldn't, to have someone looking out for him is nice, even if they have to be there.

The angel sighs but keeps and makes blue light with his fingers.

"Why are you so..." Jaskier waves a hand. "Rugged?"

"Angels are warriors." The angel replies, voice distant, "what was I supposed to be?" 

"Beautiful and pure?"

"That ship sailed." The angel grunts and disappears.

He doesn't tell his father this time. He doesn't tell anyone. No one had believed him and they won't now despite the passage of time meaning they can no longer say it is a flight of foolish fantasy or a fairy come to exchange him for a changeling.

He is walking home when he is stopped by a pair of thugs, he gets a knife in his side and his pockets emptied before he can even think about calling for help. They find nothing, he could have told them that if they had only asked. He stares up at the night sky as his blood washes thick and warm around him. 

"Fuck."

Jaksier turns to see his angel staring grumpily down at him, "your eyes are yellow." He manages to get out before everything goes dark.

Jaskier wakes to the sounds of birds singing and it takes him a few moments to work out why that puzzles him. When it hits him he tumbles out of bed, yanks his shirt up so he can look at the site where the wound should be. 

Healed skin, just the faintest line of whiter skin, barely noticeable given how pale he already is.

"You're fine."

Jaskier tumbles out of bed as he tries to whirl around to see the speaker, "you stayed!" He crows once he manages to right himself.

The angel grunts.

"I knew you liked me really!" The angel frowns and grunts a little more, his eyebrows turning down and his lips thinning. "It's ok." Jaskier reassures, "you don't have to say anything I understand."

"Hmmm." The angel grunts again, "you talk too much."

"Well, I think I am allowed today after all I am not dead."

"No," the angel agrees, "I told you that's my job."

"You didn't explain actually."

"What is there to explain?"

Jaksier holds his hands out in annoyance, "everything?!"

The angel sighs, "I am supposed to keep you safe." He says at last before turning away to busy himself at the table. "Come on, you are supposed to eat."

Jaskier looks at what could, very charitably, be called a sandwich. "Yes?"

"Mortals do that." The angel says, "we get taught."

"You go to angel school?"

"Everyone is a trainee at some point."

"Where do angels come from?"

"Dunno. We just are. Now, do you want the sandwich or not."

Jaskier takes it to be polite and nibbles.

The angel hangs around looking angsty, "I should be heading off."

"But I'm not healed yet."

"You're...not?"

"No, frail human here."

The angel comes across a pace too quick to be casual but just too slow to be hurrying. He makes a gesture and glowing symbols appear. "You're ok." The angel says.

"How do you know?"

The angel gestures at the symbols, "that's what it means."

"Oh." He feels a bit flat suddenly, the angel is going to leave again and he'll be alone. "I've still got the scar though?"

The angel frowns and without waiting for any further response yanks Jaskier's shirt up and studies his abdomen with fierce scrutiny. "Well, that should probably fade?" He offers at last. "Do you normally scar?"

"What's your name?"

The angel sighs and for a moment Jaskier thinks he's going to fly away without answering, "wait." He grabs the other's arm and holds it. "What's your name?"

"Geralt."

It's somehow surprising and not that the angel has such a normal sounding name. "Can you stay? Just for a bit?"

Geralt frowns even more deeply, "we aren't supposed to be seen by those we work for."

"You don't work for me?"

"I...I do." Geralt says slowly as though he's trying to put his thoughts into words.

"And I've seen you before anyway, come on, please, please stay, I had a near death experience, I deserve some comfort."

Geralt nods slowly, "alright."

Jaskeir waits hopeful that he'll say something else but Geralt just stands there, wings curved protectively around his shoulders and body tense. "Do you want a snack?" He asks to fill the silence.

"You don't have a lot of food." Geralt says, his voice soft and sad, "your family is rich?"

"My family...finds me difficult."

"Oh," Geralt sighs, "that...I was supposed to be there."

Jaskier cocks his head, "what do you mean." 

"You, you're my assignment."

"Yes." Jaskier can't help but bristle, "I know, you said."

"I was meant to come earlier. Put your life on a better path."

"Then where were you?"

"I...there was retraining." Geralt swallows and looks past Jaskier's shoulder at something he cannot see. "I couldn't come." The angel's wing curve a bit tighter around the muscular body.

"Well you're here now." Jaskier aims for bright and cheery but suspects it is coming off more like manic. "And you'll stay for a while?"

"If..yeah."

"Great, come and have a snack."

"I'll hunt."

"Hunt?"

"I can't take your supplies."

"Well," Jaskier says, wondering if maybe it's the food he has, perhaps the angel, Geralt, doesn't like it. "As long as you're sure."

"I'll go later." Geralt says, "you should eat now and I'll just-" he gestures at Jaskeir's books, "if that's ok?"

"Help yourself." It's awkward to watch Geralt look at the books, the angel tucks his hands behind his back and cranes his head to the side, as though he's afraid to touch. "You can take one to read if you like?"

Geralt jumps a bit before admitting, "I'm not sure about this new alphabet." He turns to watch Jaskier a little and Jaksier fights to look unconcerned, "it's all changed, the last time..." He trails off for a moment looking confused, "the last time, I think, It was all pictures." 

"Pictures?" 

"Yeah?" Geralt shrugs, "they were hard to understand too."

"Huh?" Jaksier takes another bite of the sandwich Geralt made him and chews it thoughtfully, "I think we've had this alphabet for ages. How long is retraining?"

"It depends how long they want it to last." Geralt replies.

"Oh." Jaskier frowns, unable to imagine it, "so what is it like being an angel?"

"We are the soldiers sent to serve mankind." Geralt says and it is so obviously something he had been taught to say, something he is repeating by rote that Jaskier can't believe it. 

"What do you really think?"

Geralt's face makes a complicated but still somehow guilty movement before smoothing out. "That I am a soldier sent to serve mankind."

"You don't serve me." Jaskier points out and Geralt raises an eyebrow. "I mean," he flusters, "I mean, that you don't have to, we can be friends."

Geralt grunts and turns away the snowy white of his wings fluttering and he moves.

"Oh? Are we not friends yet? You've been in my life since I was a kid!"

"You were 13."

"I..yeah, I was. You remember?"

Geralt shrugs, "you're my..." He pauses, "charge."

"I'm your friend, come on, you can say it."

Geralt shifts and for a brief moment Jaskeir thinks he's going to fly away and has to back track. "Ok, ok, too soon." He pauses, "why don't we go for a walk?"

"Eager to get stabbed again?"

"No." Jaksier glares, "near death experience, remember, try being nice for once."

Geralt grunts and looks away.

“Come on!” Jaskier, in his head he can admit he whines as he hangs on Geralt’s arm swinging back and forth as the angel holds him up.

“All right.” Geralt relents and Jaskier bounds into his room to rifle through his wardrobe.

“I’ll change really quickly.” He calls back, “Do you want to borrow anything?”

“Why?”   
Jaskier jumps as Geralt appears about two feet away. “Don’t sneak up on a guy!”

“I didn’t sneak.” Geralt snits, “and what would I borrow.”   
“Something a bit less...” Jaksier gestures at the angel's clothing. “You know, more colour.”

“No,” Gerlat looks from his own clothes to the shirt Jasker is holding, “thank you.” he adds a little reluctantly as though remembering he is supposed to say those things.

“Suit yourself.”

“Why didn’t you tell me no one could see you?” Jaskier shrieks and bangs the door shut loud enough that one of his neighbours yells something.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says and he so clearly thinks he’s being patient and reasonable that it makes Jaskier feel even angier. “I am not human, what made you think they could see me?”

“ _ I  _ can see you.”

“Yes, but you’re my assignment.”

“Well, why didn't you tell me? Now everyone thinks I am insane.” He pauses and fear creeps into his heart. “Am I? Are you real?”

“Yes, I am real.” Geralt says quietly, “just not like you.” There is a very long pause while Jaskier tries to work out if he believes Geralt or if he is going mad. “Do you...shall I go?”

“No.” Jaskier says at once before pausing to ask himself why it matters if Geralt goes or stays, “no, stay, but...are you always invisible? Can you be seen if you want?”

“Yes,” Geralt admits, sounds as if it is costing him. “But, it takes...effort.

“Can you do it tomorrow? Then everyone knows I’m not mad?”

Geralt hesitates, just for a fraction of a second but even his wings go still, and it's only then that it occurs to Jaskier that they have always been moving, "yes...?" He offers at last, "if, if that's what you want? I can do that."

"Will it hurt you?"

"No, it just...it takes effort." Geralt repeats and Jaskier knows that he's not telling all of the truth but can't bring himself to take it back, if the others think he's mad then this, this peace he's found here could be gone. This is the first place he's ever got in. 

He doesn't want to lose it.

"Tomorrow then? And you'll stay tonight?"

Geralt nods.

"Great, shall we hit the hay?" Geralt tilts his head in a manner that Jaskier knows is confusion. "I guess language has changed too? It means let's go to bed?"

"It is not appropriate for angels to sleep with their charges."

"What not even... Literally sleep?"

"Oh. We don't need that." Geralt explains looking surprised, "I assumed you meant fornicating as that is something that humans do. A lot."

"No...well, I mean? Uh, never mind, look, as a human I need sleep. Do you want to take a nap or something?"

"May I read the books? If I can figure out your alphabet?"

"Knock yourself out."

Geralt frowns, "another linguistic change or are you suggesting violence?"

"Another saying."

"Oh," Gert nods, "so I can take a book?"

"Yes, read as many as you like." It's nice to slip into bed and doze off watching the angel staring down at the pages of a book as though comprehension might slam into his brain at any moment.

He wakes slowly, he’s very warm and very content and his brain cannot work out a reason for either feeling. Reluctantly, staying in his warm half doze would be preferable, he prises his eyes open to see Geralt floating about half a foot off the floor.

“Hu-gut?” He offers intelligently and Geralt pulls the book away from his face and regards Jaskier over the top of it.

“Morning.” Geralt offers warily as though expecting a negative response, “you said I could read these.”

“Yeah.” Jaskier rolls over and sits up. “I did and you can, you stayed though! Thank you.” He beams at the other man who still looks grim faced and wary. “Are you still alright to come to university with me today?”

Geralt nods, just once, a clipped up and down motion that is over so fast Jaskier knows if he had blinked at the wrong moment he would have missed it. “You want me to be seen?”

“Yeah.”

“They..”Geralt pauses, “I don’t want to be seen as an angel. I can show myself though.”

It’s not what he wanted but judging from the set of Geralt’s, massive and very lovely, shoulders it is the best he's going to get. “Alright.” Jaskier agrees peaceably, “I am going to get dressed.”

Geralt is nervously standing by the door once he has dressed and is ready to go. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Oh, I never have breakfast.” he says, hoping the grumble of his stomach is not noticeable, “never have time.”

The frown on Geralt’s face deepens. “Your kitchen is quite empty.”

“Yeah,” he knows his tone is too pissy and he tries to soften it, “I suppose so but still come on or we will miss the workshop.”

Geralt is quiet as he follows and Jaskier longs to tell him that it doesn't matter but can't make himself, it does matter, he told people Geralt existed and if he can't show something...well, he's going to look mad and if he looks mad then the other are going to turn their backs on him. Jaskier sighs, he should never have said anything.

Besides him Geralt looks even more unhappy, "I made things difficult for you?"

"You can read minds?"

"Not...no, just I can tell your emotions."

"Oh." It feels like much the same thing, but he doesn't bother saying so.

Besides him Geralt makes a huffing sound and looks away, the slump of the angels shoulders more pronounced than ever.

Sighing Jaksier leads them both into the lecture hall, it's as drafty and as dim as always and he heads down to snag a seat as close to the fireplace and in the direct line of the stream of sunlight that flows through the window as he can. It’s the warmest place in the whole room and he settles into his favourite seat glad he made it in time. Geralt settles awkwardly into the seat next to him.

“Am I allowed to be here?”

“People come just to check it out all the time.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you frightened?” Jaskier asks suddenly feeling amused and not altogether unhappy at the idea, “the big, bad angel is afraid of some lowly humans?”

Geralt hangs his head and the joke, what little of it there had been fades, “most humans are afraid.” Geralt mutters, “and the rest...most are not kind.” He looks away his face creasing with concern or discontent at some old memory. “We...serve mankind but not all humans welcome our service.”

“Why do you serve mankind then?” Jaskier asks, reasonably in his opinion, “do something else.”

Geralt fidgets, “it’s what we were made to do. We serve mankind.”

“But if they don’t even appreciate it?” Jaskier argues, uncertain why he’s pushing when Geralt seems stricken and unsure.

Geralt shrugs again and Jaskier spares a moment for exasperation that hums and shrugs are about 95 percent of the angel’s vocabulary. “I...I don’t know that we can.” he offers, “there is the path and we need to walk it.” He stretches his hands out, “those who don’t disappear.” He rubs at hand over his lips, “we lost lots.” He bites his lip then as though he hadn’t meant to let that slip and looks away into the fireplace.

Jaskier is tempted to ask, it's the most he has managed to prise out of the other man but even he can sense that it's a sore subject. “That is a real shame.” he offers as gently as he can, “I appreciate you anyway.”

Geralt hums but does not drag his eyes away from the flames and Jaskier watches him watching the fire, wondering about the other man’s words. “I never intended to be... a burden.” He says at last and is horrified to find that his eyes are blurring with tears and his voice is thin. He swallows hard trying to press down the wave of misery at being a duty to another person rather than someone wanted and loved.

“You..no, you’re not. I just wish you’d take care of yourself and not put yourself in danger-”

“Oh..this is Geralt!” Both of them jump as Triss leans over and smiles broadly, “sorry, did I interrupt your conversation? It sounded heated.” she grins and bounces her eyebrows up and down. Jaskier feels his face flame even as Geralt looks a bit baffled, his eyes tracking the movement of Triss’s eyebrows with single minded devotion.

“Uh, no?” Jaskier stutters desperately avoiding looking at Geralt, he’s certain that having impure thoughts about an angel is the height of immorality.

“Aww, you’re embarrassed.” she singsongs and he glares. “Is that why you went home yesterday, Geralt?”

"I went for a while. Then I went home." Geralt explains, neatly explaining nothing in the process.

Jaskier nods as though it had made sense, "he came along to meet everyone today." He gestures, "make up for it." Geralt stiffens at his side and Jaskier pets his arm lightly.

Triss smiles, "aww, you guys are so cute."

Jaskier chuckles nervous and a bit awkward, "well, I-" 

He's never been more relieved to see their professor and behind him Valdo Marx, he scowls and Jaskier scowls back, "good morning." Professor Hutew says, "was there a party last night? The ranks seem a bit thin this morning?" 

"Yes," Triss smiles and the professor grins back. "I'm sure everyone will be along shortly."

"Well, until then let's get going. Åhh? And who are you?"

"I'm..Geralt." Geralt offers sounding as though he isn't sure. "I am here with Jaskier."

"Ah, young love." The professor quips and Jaskeir makes a mental note to fill in his end of semester feedback forms ruthlessly.

"Um?" He offers through gritted teeth. "Geralt is from..."

"Riva." Geralt puts in and now Jaskier is listening he does have a faint accent. Or possibly he is putting on a faint accent.

"Oh? Lovely part of the world." Hutew replies while looking as though he'd rather visit a war zone.

Geralt shrugs, "It's nice here."

"Quite." Hutew declares, puffing up as though he built the city himself. "Well, let's talk today about themes..."

Others drift in during the class and Jaskeir remembers to look over at Geralt from time to time. Mostly Geralt looks as though he's meditating, his eyes are open but he is breathing as though he's asleep.

At the end they filter out into the sunshine where the light makes Geralt hair glow silvery and he looks eritheral. Jaskier feels his heart clench in his chest and startles forcing away the thought before Geralt can pick up on it.

"Åhh, Jaskier." Professor Hutew calls, "can I have a quick word?"

"Of course."

"It's about your work. It's so good, we'd like it if you could play as part of the midwinter festival, paid of course."

"I...sir? Really?" 

"Oh, yes. We are all so impressed we can't wait. Any of your current songs or if you have any new ones?"

"I'll see what I can do!" 

"Excellent, can you come by my office tomorrow so we can sort out the details?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Come by for lunch, my treat!"

Jaskier tries to call out a thankful reply but his professor smiles, waves and walks away before he can get the words out. "Can you believe it?" He asks Geralt, who looks at him, his face unreadable. "A meal and a paid job?"

"That's great." Geralt says, "isn't it?"

"It's such a relief." Jaskier replies, "I mean, if I get paid then there are loads of little things." He spends half a moment thinking about fine clothes and expensive luxuries before reining himself in. "I can pay rent and buy a winter coat!"

Geralt looks at his thin coat and frowns. "I thought...."

"What?"

Geralt shrugs and looks away. "Nothing."

Now he knows there should be money coming in; he treats himself, just a bit in case it falls through, to an extra slice of bread and an extra handful of oats in his porridge. He adds milk instead of water when he makes it and savours the warmth with every bite.

"Can I read another book?" Geraly asks while he eats. "I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Sure." Warm and relaxed it's even more fun to watch Geralt than it was before, the other's brows drawn down as he studies the words carefully. "You're moulting." Jaskier picks up one of the rich creamy white feathers and scruffs a finger across the edges of it. It's stiffer than he'd expected, lighter too given the size.

Geraly regards the feather with dark eyes. "So it seems."


End file.
